


Lysis

by levigate



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3731746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levigate/pseuds/levigate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victory was his, but Ruvik is lost. His memories aren't as reliable as he'd thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lysis

Ruvik stares at his reflection, blue bloodshot eyes staring back. Heavy bags are underneath, indicating sleep deprivation. He turns his head this way and that, taking in the sun-shy skin plagued with red patches of psoriasis. It’s odd having hair again, and he runs his fingers through it. Strange yet acceptable. He feels Leslie struggling in the back of his mind, fighting for control. Twisting around in imagined bonds. Begging and pleading and yelling with all his little strength. Wasted, futile effort. Ruvik, as always, will never submit. If the horrors of losing his own body, of being lost within STEM did not break him, what hope has Leslie? None at all.

And now, with the system being wireless he is unstoppable. Whatever was Jiminez thinking? He knew that Ruvik was there, subjecting the mindscape to his will, twisting it to suit his vengeance. The fool had practically handed the entire world to Ruvik on a silver platter. Minds are chemicals and electric currents, and now Ruvik can pull anyone in that he wants, not confined to the rudimentary STEM terminals he’d once been so proud of designing. With each mind he snatches he can push the signal further, and his reach ever widens. He takes one last look at the image, changing clothes from hospital patient to his familiar hooded attire with less than a thought. Time to go play with his new subjects personally. Leslie sobs and writhes.

His first priority was his family, the only one he would acknowledge. Ruvik took his time recreating his beloved sister. He was well-aware that he must not let his own pathetic emotions, the bile taste of guilt, contaminate her. He would not have another  _monster_  on his hands, one in their family was quite enough. He searched among his little dolls, breaking them one by one as he sought to find the perfect match. He was impatient, but forced himself to not rush the process. Perfection took time. This is his second chance and he will make the most of it.

She was around his sister’s age, had a brother of her own so it would be a simple matter to simply  _replace_ a few key parts of her psyche. Her hair was long, that silky raven-black that Laura had inherited from their mother. Eyes were that icy green that was similar to his own, inherited from their father. Ivory skin, unblemished by the harsh sunlight . He made her smile and thought  _yes, this is the one_. She had cried and screamed and begged so prettily as he worked. He reassured her, smoothed her hair and wiped the sweat from her brow. She needed this surgery. When it was over she looked at him and smiled.  _Rub_ _en_.

He left the world alone for a bit, content to spend his time with his newly recovered sister. The world could go fuck itself; Ruben had Laura, and that was all that mattered. They walked hand in hand in places he’d purposely left untouched. They went to the beach, Paris, the top of Mount Everest. Anywhere she desired. Sometimes his mind would drift, lost in his own thoughts—after decades of having nothing save himself it was a hard habit to break—and Ruben would come back to see her watching him. She always seemed incredibly sad each time this happened. She would hug him and make him promise he wouldn’t leave her.  _Of course I won’t_. Leslie was absent during these times. Ruben figured he’d finally broken the boy.

One day Ruvik woke up and looked at her, really looked. She had met his gaze, eyebrows knitted, mouth scrunched in an unfamiliar frown.  _What’s wrong_? she had asked.  _Rub_ _en_? Anger swelled in him. This wasn’t Laura. He searched his impeccable memories and knew that she didn’t match up. He can admit his mistake, provided he learns from it. He sets about unmaking her. God, even her screams were incorrect. How could he have failed so miserably? He’d let his eagerness accept imperfection. Leslie was crying too, begging at him to stop,  _not again not again not again_. Ruvik ignored them both. He would have to start from scratch.

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony. Thoughts are jumbled, but he knows this is what he needs, a base for his beloved sister. None are suitable, none are quite how he remembers. And with each girl he takes and distorts to fit that mold, each one seems further and further from his goal. What color was her dress? He thinks it might have been red but can never seem to find the exact shade. Crimson or scarlet? Brick or rose? He settles for simply clothing the girls in their own blood.

He lost himself more and more; woke to find himself over a girl he could not place. She was pretty, with long dark hair and lovely pale skin. What was he doing with this blade in his hand? She was tied to a metal table, looking at him tearfully. She called him  _Rub_ _en_  and he wondered if that was his name? That couldn’t be right, felt wrong on his lips. He untied her, dismissed her. She was reluctant to go, begged him to not leave her again. She wouldn’t leave, and in the end he had to force it. He didn’t know who she was, but there was a hollowness in his chest and he sank to the ground, crying over her corpse. Someone’s voice was in the back of his mind, whispering to him. He couldn’t make out the words but there were the impression of arms and he let himself sink into Leslie’s comforting embrace. It was all he had left.

He stares at the reflection. He turns the head this way and that, taking in the pale skin and blue eyes. The hair is near-white, and he brings a hand to run through it, the sensation strange and not at all familiar. He hears a loud voice, dominating his thoughts. His thoughts? He isn’t certain that he even  _is_. The voice is all, telling him  _it’s time to go time to go time to go_. He doesn’t want to go. He tried so hard to stay, didn’t he? He’s supposed to be here.  _Time to go time to go_ , the voice insists and he’s afraid. He doesn’t want to leave! Go where? He brings hands to neck, trying to draw a hood over the head. It’ll be better if he can hide, but there isn’t a hooded jacket like he thought there would be, just a patient’s uniform.  _Don’t be afraid…it’s alright. You can be with Laura be with Laura with Laura_. He shrinks from the voice. He doesn’t know who that is. Hands cover face in an attempt to block out the sound. It doesn’t work.  _Laura is Ruben’s sister_ , explains the voice. Both names are unfamiliar to him and the voice tries again.

 _Laura is_ your _sister_. He perks up at that, interested. His sister? He had a sister? Surely he’d recall having a sister. But it sparks something in him. It’s almost like remembrance and maybe the voice is right.  _She’s waiting she’s waiting she’s waiting,_  it insists.  _Go to her_.

 _And for the first time in his existence he_ lets go _. He feels himself falling, caught by his big sister in her red dress. The exact shades don’t matter anymore because he knows its_ her _, his_ Laura _. She smiles at him and his heart aches._ I missed you, _she says. He can’t speak, too overcome. She laughs at his silence._ Cat got your tongue _? she teases, setting him down beside her. She holds out her hand and he takes it, clasping her hand tightly in his own childish one._ Ready to go home, Ruby _? He smiles at the name, pleased to finally found one that_ fit _._

_He nods, and together they walk into eternity._

**Author's Note:**

> Something I think about a lot. Since the body is Leslie’s and not actually Ruvik’s, I figure the former has greater claim to it and the body recognizes this, treating Ruvik like an infection, destroying him a little bit at a time :D
> 
> Criticism in all forms requested and encouraged.


End file.
